Kiss of Death
by Harlowe Keets
Summary: She is taken. From her life, from her beliefs... and she is new. She is... whoever he has made her.


Every nerve in my body tingled, every sense I possessed was screaming danger. I forced calm, I told myself I was paranoid. But his footsteps echoed behind me in the silent darkness. My heart slammed against my chest in fear. There was no one around, no one but me and him. I forced a deliberately steady pace as I walked down the ally.

But still the sound of his leisurely footsteps was constant, about twenty feet behind me, like the Tell-Tale Heart. Each one made me more nervous, more panicky. Each one drew him nearer to me. I tried to keep my gaze foreword, tried not to look back at him. I didn't want the confirmation I would get by seeing him… but the steady clicking of his feet against the gravel was driving me mad. I stole a nervous glance over my shoulder at him. He was little more than a shadow… the light from the street at the end of the ally barely touched his face.

And then he smiled at me, teeth flashing. In that instant, my wildly beating heart stopped. I drew in breath and time itself halted. I knew, then. I knew there was no chance, I knew what would happen. I knew there was no escaping. He knew that I knew, he saw it all over my face. He chuckled under his breath, not missing a beat as he slowly drew nearer.

I knew there was no hope.

And I ran. In a second, he was in front of me. I gasped and turned to run the other way, not thinking about what I already knew. He walked slowly behind me as I ran, confident. He knew there was no hope…

By the time I remembered the ally was a dead end this way, I'd already come up to it. The giant brick wall spread out in front of me, above me, all around me. Except behind me, where he stood. Everything in me knew… everything screamed "you're about to die."

A low, throaty growl escaped his lips. I spun around to face him. Starring into his crazed, thirsty eyes for a moment… I saw no trace of the human I knew he'd had to have been once. His ivory facial features were twisted with savage pleasure. He was _enjoying_ the hunt, enjoying the terror in my gaze and the sound of my accelerated heart. He was enjoying the way my blood called to him. There was no escape. He was faster and stronger than any human, and likely smarter. I told myself not to scream. I told myself not to give him the satisfaction.

"Hello," he said. His voice was low and sexy, enticing with a European accent that wasn't easily placed, as far as region went. It almost made me forget that he was the predator and I was only the prey. I worked up all the courage I could to reply without screaming.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to play with your food?" My voice shook with terror, but I spoke, avoiding his eyes. He made an odd barking noise that I assumed was laughter, though it sounded more like coughing. His throat was sandpaper dry. That's what the thirst would do to them.

He moved closer with inhuman speed and I pressed myself against the cold brick wall behind me. He held his hand up and touched his finger gently to my cheek. I winced, closing my eyes and breathing fast. His skin was cold, but soft. Somehow, I still had to force myself not to lean into his unexpectedly sweet touch. He gently wiped the tears from my face (I hadn't realized I was crying until he did so) and traced his finger down the line of my jaw.

"You are a very pretty thing, aren't you?" he said. "And brave, too." He ran his finger down the front of my neck, teasing himself with the rush of blood beneath the thin layer of flesh. Feeling my fear in my pulse. He seemed fascinated, content to feel for a moment.

"Just do it," I said breathlessly, "stop playing with me. Just do it." He ignored me, of course. He got even closer, touching the tip of his nose to my cheek. He let his skin graze mine very softly, gently and sweetly. Blood rushed through my face and he inhaled deeply, his nose pressed gently against my skin. He tried to make me look into his eyes, but I closed mine and turned my head to expose my neck. He gently ran the tip of his nose over the skin of my neck and shivers ran down my spine.

"Look into my eyes," he whispered sensually in my ear, his cold breath caressing my skin, "it'll make things easier. You'll enjoy it that way. It wont even hurt."

"No," I gasped, tears falling in a stream. "I wont die a puppet." He stopped moving for a moment, poised over my neck and breathing deeply. He gently forced my head straight and laid soft kisses from the hinge of my jaw to the corner of my mouth. The smell of his skin was sweet and delicious. He kissed my closed eyes gently and then lowered his mouth onto mine. His stone cold lips closed softly on my bottom lip in a small, coaxing kiss. Twice more he lulled me with the sweet perfection of his lips before I succumbed. I leaned into his kiss hesitantly, my lips numb with fear.

So I kissed my murderer with all the affection I'd never show a human again. With every last feeling I possessed, I molded his lips to mine as if they truly belonged there. He responded with every bit of affection that was necessary. I had a quick thought that perhaps he had been human once after all. He gently broke away from my lips and I kept my eyes closed as he laid a trail of kisses up my jaw and he paused at my ear.

"When you awake you will remember," he whispered. There was emotion in his voice, which should have startled me, but I was too scared to make out exactly what it was, too scared to think or breathe, "and someday you will appreciate this." For a moment I let myself hope that he wasn't going to hurt me. I let myself believe that his kisses were more than lies. I let myself think he would show me the mercy I hadn't had the stupidity to beg for. I let myself believe exactly what he wanted me to believe. And then he struck.

I gasped and my eyes opened wide. I clutched his shoulders, digging my nails into his cold, bare flesh. I doubt he could even feel it. He never wavered, never pulled himself away from my neck. I felt my blood leave me. I felt him drain my life to sustain his own. It was dark but I could tell when my vision blurred and my thoughts got fuzzy. It wasn't at all like I thought dying would be. My life didn't flash before my eyes and there was no bright light calling me to heaven. I didn't have a last feeling or thought. I just slipped away.


End file.
